


The Polka-Dotted Snake's Explosive Fifth Symphony

by logorrhea



Category: Kill la Kill (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Childhood Friends, F/F, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loyalty, Missing Scene, touch averse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logorrhea/pseuds/logorrhea
Summary: A Nonon-centric musical-zoological interlude which takes place sometime before episode 17.  In addition to being a gifted soprano and a talented violinist who could be counted among the top five flower arrangers in the nation, Jakuzure Nonon was also something of an explosives expert.  It came in handy, being Satsuki's best friend and all.
Relationships: Jakuzure Nonon/Kiryuuin Satsuki
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Polka-Dotted Snake's Explosive Fifth Symphony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runicmagitek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/gifts).



> Thanks for giving me the opportunity to write Nonon, I always loved her to bits and pieces so this assignment was a real treat! As far as I know, Nonon and Ragyou only exchanged pleasantries once. This fic is inspired by that scene with a focus on Nonon and then Satsuki. It's bittersweet in the context of canon but not as a standalone piece. Hope you enjoy!

Satsuki never asked anything of her. There had never been a need for it. Nonon might have had difficulty comprehending justice and she might still doubt the existence of eternity, but Kiryuuin Satsuki was something of an open book. And so, when Iori reported back that the President of the Student Council would be taking a detour, Nonon alone could read between the lines.

So here she was, cooped up in the chemistry lab, overseeing a series of controlled explosions. The first three compounds were too unstable, but the fourth needed too much catalyst to ignite. The fifth and sixth wouldn't light up at all and compound number eight rolled underneath the sink.

"This is precisely the sort of thing kouhai are meant to do," Nonon grumbled, even as she sank to her knees and groped blindly about the crevice. "Ah. There it is." Triumphant, she grabbed the fallen vial and pushed herself upright, hurrying over to the sink to pop a couple drops onto the slab of cement.

The resulting explosion was just right: the upper third of the concrete went flying all around yet the lower half remained untouched.

"Perfect," she beamed, topping off the vial with a flourish before proceeding with mass production. Melodies of centuries past floated into her head and cute little animals made into the likeness of her favorite composers all shouted 'name it after me!', 'name it after _me_!'.

"Mahler is too dour," she sighed as she waited for the acid to reach room temperature, "And I've never had the chance to conduct that piece in full. It's practically a stranger to me." She shook her free hand at the space above her skull cap, effectively popping the tiger balloon, "The gigue in Mozart's is nice but the main ought to wrap things up." Experimentally, she tapped at the side of the glass. Sure enough, the mixture spat out a nasty bubble. "Haydn?" she did like that piece and had the pleasure of playing it for Satsuki but alas, her mother had also been attendance and it really wasn't _complete_ without the first two symphonies.

By the time she was sneaking around the stadium, carefully planting wires and vials some three hundred metres apart, Nonon was still debating what to call the compound. What had once been a veritable menagerie had since dwindled to a child's mobile. There was Dvořák the frog, Sibelius the polar bear, Schubert the butterfly, and of course, Beethoven the raccoon.

The raccoon ended up winning out, and so the trigger was set to the first eight bars of Beethoven's Eighth. When all the improvised explosives had been set, Nonon got to her feet and wiped the dust from her palms and knees.

"A best friend's work is never done," she declared, shaking her head with the guise of remorse. It had been a hell of a day and tomorrow wouldn't be any better. But the night was still young and she still needed to see through her duties.

Like Satsuki, Nonon was privileged with her own helicoptor. In theory, it made getting from Honnouji to the Kiryuuin manor a matter of minutes. In practice, because she couldn't be certain Satsuki had disabled the guards, she didn't dare use the Kiryuuin helipad, instead ordering the pilot to do a fly-by over the cluster of bushes to the north of the central bathes.

Nonon dropped into the foliage with practiced grace, scampering up the trellis with an ease that would turn Sanageyama green.

Satsuki was waiting for her. As Nonon had long since given up the goal of surprising her, she contented herself instead with the President's pleased smile.

"Express delivery for one Kiryuuin Satsuki," she chirped, vaulting over the balcony with the detonator in-hand.

"Good work," Satsuki said, and her grasp lingered a second too long about Nonon's for everything to be alright. She turned away, hiding the device in one of her many drawers, and Nonon thought she could see the faintest flush on her friend's cheeks. It could have been her natural radiance though. "Have you had dinner?" Satsuki asked, pulling Nonon back to the present.

At the question, Nonon's stomach remembered it hadn't. Not since eleven in the morning, when they were preparing for the fight against Abekama, come to think of it. It gave a loud growl of discontent and then it was Nonon's turn to blush. She dropped her gaze for a moment before looking up to see Satsuki turning back. Their eyes met for a moment before they both devolved into quiet giggles.

As usual, Satsuki was the first to recover.

"Neither have I," she said, taking Nonon by the wrist, "My mother's lackeys have been locked up so the kitchen is without help but if Soroi can make a meal that's half as good as his tea..."

As it turned out, Mitsuzou Soroi could indeed whip up a healthy, hearty, and most importantly delicious meal on the spot. He drew the line, however, at dining with his mistress, and so dinner was just the two of them in the grand dining room, with the clatter of forks and knives against plates and bowls trimmed with gold under the light of six brilliant chandeliers.

"Ne, Satsuki," Nonon started, waving her fork with practiced grace, "Whose symphony do you think I named your back-up plan after?"

Satsuki pursed her lips as she set down both fork and knife, contemplating.

"Haydn?" she hazarded.

"Nope!"

"Mozart?" she tried again.

"Nope!"

Satsuki frowned. She drummed her fingers against the edge of the table. "Give me a hint, then," she commanded.

"It's a piece by the raccoon," Nonon laughed.

"Ah," both fork and knife were taken up once more, "Beethoven then."

"Mm," Nonon cheerfully hummed the opening to the piece as they made quick work of the rest of the meal. After dessert, during which Nonon opted for warm milk with honey instead of the usual tea, the two of them adjourned to Satsuki's apartments. With a girlish cry, Nonon threw herself on Satsuki's bed as only a childhood friend might. It wasn't nearly as soft, lacey, or frilly as her own four postered monstrosity, but it was certainly spacious.

"Hello, you," Nonon grinned, reaching over to squeeze the cheeks of the nearest stuffed animal, a lumpy twice-stitched panda, "There you are Debussy! Oh, and Paganini too!" They were Satsuki's of course, but Nonon had taken the liberty in naming them all. She greeted all the ones that were out for display while Satsuki washed up.

"Ne, Satsuki," Nonon greeted, "Isn't this one new?" She pointed at a pink and purple polka-dotted snake.

"Hn."

"What a surprise!" Nonon giggled, "There hasn't been a new addition for some time! What shall we call you, I wonder?" It was more a question of which composers were left.

Satsuki said something, but it was more of a breath than a sentence.

"What?" Nonon asked.

"That one already has a name."

"Oh," Nonon clapped her hands together, delighted, "I'm glad to see I'm finally rubbing off on you!" She grabbed the stuffed snake and set it in her lap, petting its cute little head. Satsuki stood between the bed and the bathroom.

"Well?" Nonon pressed, eager for any conversation that didn't involve the next day.

"Well what?"

"What's his name, of course!"

Satsuki crossed her arms and said nothing. She didn't lower her gaze or look away, but Nonon could definitely see her cheeks turning red. She finally put two and two together and felt her own cheeks heating up, though she was pleased beyond words. She settled for throwing the snake into the air and kissing its snout before dashing into the bathroom to wash up.

As expected, her face was bright red. She patted down her cheeks with cold water and took a couple deep breaths. A glance around Satsuki's bathroom was enough to sober her considerably. Nonon had always thought her family made heavy use of cosmetics -- but the difference between what their mothers deemed necessary and proper was, well, night and day.

She hummed a bit of Rachmaninoff's Third while combing out her hair. By the time all the tangles were out, her face had returned to normal and she herself in the right set of mind.

Nonon stepped out of the bathroom and faltered. For Satsuki was there, seated on the edge of the bed, looking so lost and alone it was all Nonon could do, to keep from running over to her and throwing her arms about her.

"Satsuki," she said instead.

Satsuki blinked, evidently brought out of a reverie of her own. She lifted her gaze to look at Nonon and Nonon was further disheartened by the _weariness_ that seemed trapped by her gaze.

"Is it alright?" her friend asked, gesturing to the space between them. Normally, Satsuki let her have the bed while she lounged about the recliner.

"Of course it is, silly," Nonon answered, twisting her mouth into a smile. "It's your bed, it's your room. You could throw me out any time." She eased herself onto the mattress, burrowing under the sheets. Satsuki followed partway, in that she didn't avail herself of the quilted coverings. She reached out instead with graceful fingers that could have played the violin just as well until she could gently tuck an errant lock of hair behind Nonon's ear.

Nonon closed her eyes resolutely and tried to tune the hideously pleasant sensation out.

She ended up drifting off to sleep with Satsuki's long and beautiful fingers carefully carding through her hair.

She dreamt of the past, of course. What else could one dream of, in these sorts of times? She dreamt of the time before their friendship which was really a very long time ago. It was the two of them and three other brats, all vying to be the number one junior violinist in the under-10 Vienna Competition. She couldn't even remember the names, much less the faces, of their fellow competitors, but she remembered disliking how Satsuki alone had made no effort to suck up to her and thinking how she would crow over the other girl's defeat.

She had won, by dint of being the best violinist in the lot, but her victory had been in part due to Satsuki's metre-wide righteous streak which somehow -- or at least in that instance -- translated to forcing the judges' hands when one of the other competitors had been caught up in bribery. The key was: Satsuki, unlike Nonon, hadn't lorded it over her. In fact, if it weren't for the social kerfuffle that followed, Nonon would've been none the wiser to the attempted foul play.

That was Satsuki in a nutshell. She might have been born on a throne with the most silver of spoons, but she would've forged her way to the top regardless.

Nonon woke to the smell of Soroi's tea. Her eyes snapped open and she wanted to sit up on instinct. Satsuki, however, kept her forehead in place with a soft but unyielding palm.

At once, Nonon realised she had somehow fallen asleep in Satsuki's _lap_. There wasn't a colour bright enough to describe her inner shame but she was sure her ears and cheeks were trying.

"Satsuki, I -- " Nonon started. She was cut off when the palm slid down to cover her mouth.

"You've done enough," Satsuki murmured. "I would rather you stay out of this. It's a family affair, you understand."

Nonon was still a little sleepy, plenty embarrassed, and even more scared of what was to come. It was the only explanation for how she opened her mouth and _bit_ down on Satsuki's palm. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it was enough for Satsuki to pull away and give a cry of what might have been surprise.

"You big dummy," Nonon growled, pushing herself up so she could look Satsuki in the eye, "You could have turned a blind eye in the Juniors!"

"It wouldn't have helped me win."

"No, but it would have gotten you a leg up on the others!"

Satsuki snorted but said nothing.

"If some of my cuteness and charm is rubbing off on you, then some of your pig-headedness must have rubbed off on me!" Nonon declared. She went so far as to shove Satsuki on the shoulder, "I want to see your mom brought her knees just as badly as you do, okay? She's a bitch! An absolute Grade-A Bitch! So you're not facing her without me, got it?!"

Silence reigned for some time as Satsuki stared at the spot Nonon had pushed her and Nonon fought to catch her breath. Habits of the great masters or not, she really wasn't a morning person.

Finally, Satsuki said: "Did you just call my mother a bitch?"

And yes, she did use the ultra-formal term. The one that no one in their right mind would refer to their parent as.

Nonon rolled her eyes. "Yes," she sighed, "But I promise I'll keep it under wraps. At least until the Big Reveal." Another pause. "Even though she totally is."

Satsuki hugged her fiercely then, and it really was as if they were back in kindergarten and solidifying their alliance for the first time. For a moment, the wind was knocked clear out of Nonon's lungs before she flung her arms about the other, as if trying the squeeze the breath from her.

They drew apart, flushed and breathless, and shared another look before lapsing into adolescent mirth.

There wasn't enough time for breakfast, but Soroi was kind enough to bring up another glass of warm milk while Nonon was getting ready. It didn't matter that the spare clothes in Satsuki's closet were a bit short at the sleeves, she reasoned, as she'd be changing out of them within the hour. Still, she made a mental note to have one of her maids cart over another set of clothes. Later. When Satsuki's mother was behind bars, or better yet, buried at the bottom of the sea.

Satsuki gave her the cup of warm milk and combed through her locks properly. Nonon wondered what shred of reassurance could be gleaned by the action but held her tongue all the same.

"I'll see you at the stadium," Nonon said, when the cup was empty but still warm and her hair had been neatly tucked away under her trademark skull cup.

"Wait."

"What?" Nonon patted her pockets and purse. "What is it?"

Satsuki bit her bottom lip, the picture of petulance. "You forgot to say goodbye," she said.

"Oh, alright," Nonon threw up her hands and went back to the bed, kissing the assembled stuffed animals farewell. "And don't worry about me, okay?" she said to Satsuki, "I'll be the perfect host for your mom." And then, before Satsuki could make some cutting remark, Nonon threw Jakuzure at her before vaulting down the same way she came up.


End file.
